This is night, of what starsharry towards the moon, fartherremoved from men, fromevery million midnight's attendingeven then hungry noon.Faces lift through lunar masksand speak in dreams, speakcanyon echoes,echosisteroffaith."We are eternal triple woman,origin of myth darkly brandingmaiden, mother, crone"and she shall find me, four-cornered,nearest the moon.

- Nicole Hanna

"God may be in the details, but the goddess is in the questions. Once we begin to ask them, there's no turning back."

-Gloria Steinem

Dark Mother

The Willow spoke of herto the Great White Owl.It called her "Hag! Hag of the Dead!"and from the moon she came,from the Lovely One she came,from the crossroads she came.Low the smoke rolled as it followed,and to the Maiden, it asked,"Where is her headdress of stars?"and Maiden gave her these black arts.The smoke asked of the Mother,"How go the sacred power of Nature?"and Mother gave her these gifts by three,and infants were realizedand mothers were milkedand crone wore the dead like charms.Great White Owl spoke"Hag! Hag of the Dead!"and boldly the earth dancedmore kindly than the treeswhile the witch found magicwhile in moonlight should advancethe voice of three:"I am the deep mysteries,which well within the hearth,and you shall call meHecate."